When I woke up on the morning of our visit to Auschwitz, I knew I would cry at some point that day, but I never suspected when. The tears did not come when I gazed up at a cattle car that carried over one million people to their deaths, or when I felt the wooden platform in the barrack where women not much older than myself slept between days of brutal work, or even when I looked down into the gas chamber that ended hundreds of thousands of people’s lives with nothing more than a puff of smoke.
At the end of our tour, we came together to listen to the stories of those whose family had a personal connection to Auschwitz, joined together in the Mourners Kadish, and finished with the singing of the Israeli national anthem, Hatikva. It was then, with a Jewish star worn proudly around my neck, surrounded by an incredible community of other Jews, that I felt tears in my eyes.
What a miracle it was that we were able to walk into this terrible place on the same train tracks that brought in the Jews of the Holocaust, but unlike them, we were able to walk back out. In that moment, I felt the incredible resilience of the Jewish people and how lucky I was to be a part of this strong community. The Nazis sought to wipe the Jews out, but here we were, over 100 Jewish teens choosing to spend our summers engaging with our Jewish identity in the land of our people. We are the living legacy of everyone who lost their life, and it is our job to keep their memories alive.
At first, this felt like a scary responsibility: how do I keep the memories alive of people I never even met? However, after these past two weeks in Israel, I now understand that I carry their legacy every single day. I carry it every time I stand up with my camp friends to pray during morning T’filah, educate my home friends about a Jewish holiday, make challah with my mom, light a chanukiah, or put on my Chai necklace. To live a vibrant and proud Jewish life in their honor, that is our responsibility.
Eve K
